The Golden Mirror
The fire did not start with a spark, but with a scream that tore through the silence of the High Valley like a bolt of lightning striking dry timber. It was a sound that belonged to no human throat, a raw, animal shriek that vibrated in the marrow of Sergeant Elias Thorne. He stood at the edge of the cliff, his hand resting on the hilt of his ceremonial sword, the metal cold and unyielding...
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